Hope

[vickiwoodyard]

Hope

No one should have to bury their youngest. No one should have to be that strong. I don’t miss her anymore. All the “missing years” have turned to stardust. I often turn instead to thoughts of her father, who has been gone over eight years now.

I want him to know I am going to hear Leonard Cohen. Want him to know that I can’t decide what to wear, because frankly, I don’t have any dress-up clothes. Oh, I have nice outfits that I seldom wear, but they are not me, not my comfortable pants and shoes. I will probably decide at the last minute, causing myself to feel pangs of insecurity.

Leonard will know I am in attendance. He has never met me and never will. That doesn’t mean one atom of love doesn’t recognize another atom. That is his charm; he knows the broken heart so well. He sings to those who have lost and never quite gotten it back. He knows how to put the notes down so that we can pick them up and put them in our heart’s pockets.

Today I went to Tai Chi. Cate got tears in her eyes when I said I was lost in looking up at the tall trees, seeing the hawk nests swaying in the wind. Yes, I am looking up and in at the same time. At Bob’s funeral I asked the minister to read these words, “I will lift up mine eyes unto the hills, from whence cometh my help. My help cometh from the Lord, which made heaven and earth.”

After class, four of us sat around a round table and had lunch. We touched on our lives lightly, daring to bear a bit of soul. I told them about losing my daughter. I felt their compassion. I said I needed to move but my home is my security, in a manner of speaking. But nothing lasts forever. I finished my lunch and drove home in full sunshine.

Sweetheart, Leonard Cohen is gonna be at the Atlanta Fox on Friday night. Rob and I are going. It’s spring down south and I miss you always, all ways. But something keeps me going; I can’t become a burden on myself or I would become a burden to everyone I meet. So I go to Tai Chi, take walks and write lots of Notes. If you happen to be closer to God than I am, whisper in His Ear that I would like for something miraculous to happen on Friday night. Something like the stone being rolled away. Something like that.

Vicki Woodyard
http://www.vickiwoodyard.comH

[Violet]

Vicki, this is a very moving post you've written. And I think just being there on Friday night will have you feeling such things. So many can testify to that, including myself.

Be well,

v i o l e t x

[vickiwoodyard]

Thank you, Violet. This is my first post in this category. Didn't know it was here.

[Violet]

.. welcome to "the back room," as some of us call it (!)